November Salmagundi
November Besides the autumn poets sing, A few prosaic days A little this side of the snow And that side of the haze. A few incisive mornings, A few ascetic eyes,-- Gone Mr. Bryant's golden-rod, And Mr. Thomson's sheaves. Still is the bustle of the brook, Sealed are the spicy valves; Mesmeric fingers softly touch The eyes of many elves. Perhaps a squirrel may remain, My sentiments to share. Grant me, O Lord, a sunny mind, Thy windy will to bear! -Emily Dickinson (That poem feels appropriate) (Also, we recommend reading the poem aloud if you can when you see it. It makes it more powerful.) Hello readers! We sincerely hope you're all hanging in there. We're doing ok here in SoCal. Not much to report on the writing front. We'll share an update as soon as we can about our next project. As winter works its way in, and things feel colder and darker (perhaps both literally and metaphorically), we are jumping in with a little mishmash blog of bits and bobs. The plan is to ...